


*Tag* - You're it!

by millygal



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Crack, Dare, Drinking Games, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 12:55:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10697448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/pseuds/millygal
Summary: Prompt: Ronon and John play a drinking game. Summary: Rodney's never going to be the same again!





	*Tag* - You're it!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mific](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mific/gifts).



> Written for mific.

"Nope, don't care, you promised!"

So much for a quick beer!

John's well on his way to toasted already, there's no chance he isn't going to be spinning like a bitch later on, but the pouty puppy look plastered all over the equally as drunk Ronon's face is too damned adorable to deny! "Chewie, I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm a tiny bit smaller than you, there's a distinct possibility this might actually _kill_ me!"

Ronon's not actually as pissed as his CO but he's pleasantly buzzed, so pleasantly in fact that John's face has started to blur at the edges and every time he speaks the Satedan has to stamp on the urge to purr at him, "I thought you were a strong virile human being, not some girly chick!"

Grinning at Ronon's extremely see through attempt to bait him he shakes his head and levers himself off the couch, grabs the open whisky bottle and stumbles towards the door, "Fine, but I throw up, you're holdin' my hair back!"

Snorting and following John out of his quarters, he radios through to Zelenka, "Any sign of McKay?"

The static hum of dead air pervades the corridor for a second or two then Radek's voice comes over clear, and a touch too loud for both of the already swaying men, "In the gym, of all places."

Smiling at the thought of Rodney trying to do anything in the gym other than hide food, Ronon snags the back of John's collar and drags him towards the nearest transporter, "Come on smart ass, you're the one who suggested this!"

~  
~  
~

Rodney's not above admitting he needs a little tone and strength training, especially seen as Ronon's new favourite game seems to be picking up the scientist and shaking him, for no good reason that any one can find!

That doesn't mean he wants Ronon, or John for that matter, knowing he's taken on extra sparring sessions with Teyla. All he seems to be doing in these training sessions is finding new and inventive ways to peel himself off the floor after the petite woman in leathers has flattened his ass, so he _really_ doesn't need them finding out, "Come on! How is THAT a legal move! If we were in America you'd be thrown out of the wrestling guild!"

Teyla quirks one perfectly shaped eyebrow and flicks her Bantos Rods at the downed Doctor, "You wanted me to train you, I did not say I would go easy on you...and there is a guild, for wrestling?"

Rodney crawls to his knees and tries not to vomit, "Well, no, but if there were, you would be!"

Chuckling at Rodney's pained expression, Teyla lowers her rods and tilts her head, "Did you want to stop for the day? Last I counted, that was your twelfth drop. I don't want to have to explain how I broke you to Commander Carter."

At the mention of Rodney's long time crush his face flames and he staggers to his feet, refusing to admit defeat, even if he thinks he might honestly be suffering from internal bleeding, "Nope, I'm good, come at me!"

~  
~  
~

John listens to Rodney's laboured grunts through the closed door and turns to Ronon, "Subtle Chewie, you gotta be subtle. He smells a rat he's out of there! Now, you know the rules, right? Every time one of us manages to make him blush, the other downs a mouthful."

Ronon smirks and leans in close, resting his forehead against John's, "And if I manage to make him, what's that phrase, crack a boner? Do I get extra points?"

Torn between amusement and alcohol hazed jealousy, John grips the front of Ronon's top and reaches up on tiptoes, "That depends," letting his tongue flick out against his partner's bottom lip, he laps at the corner of his mouth, "on whether or not you let him try and use it!"

Snorting and nipping at John's pouting lips, Ronon pulls back and spins his CO towards the gym door, "What _do_ you take me for? Come on then, let battle commence!"

~  
~  
~

Rodney's flat on his back with the world above him spinning in the most undignified way. He's not sure if he's going to throw up but he's damned sure he didn't want either Ronon or John seeing him like this, especially seen as Teyla hasn't even broken a sweat!

Teyla turns at the gentle hiss of the door opening and smiles at her CO and his mate.

Teyla's always been all about natural beauty, and there is nothing more natural _or_ beautiful on Atlantis than these two men, "Evening Colonel, Ronon. Good day?"

John throws her a wobbly thumbs up and sniggers before practically falling at Rodney's flailing feet, "Hey big boy, you okay down there?"

Teyla watches Ronon watch John with a knowing, almost cruel smirk on his face and shakes her head ruefully, "Do I even want to know?"

Ronon ducks his head and chews on his bottom lip to stop from bursting out into giant great guffaws, "Probably not."

Placing her Bantos Rods back in her discarded bag, she backs out of the room with a silent wave, leaving Rodney to continue to stare at John as if he's got two heads, "Did you just...No, I'm fine, I can manage."

John curls himself into the lotus position next to a now mostly upright McKay, before reaching out and stroking his face, "Are you sure, I mean Teyla can be awful mean when she's sparring!"

Rodney nearly swallows his tongue and feels his face flaming.

Ronon snags the bottle of whisky from John's free hand and downs a huge mouthful before coming to crouch next to the by now most definitely afraid Doctor, "We could always help work out those aching muscles, McKay, what do you say?"

John snatches the bottle back out of Ronon's large paws and swigs greedily as Rodney tries to shunt himself backwards away from the quite clearly drunk pair only to land flat on his back again, "Okay, OKAY, I don't know what game you're playing but..."

Slamming a finger against McKay's still moving lips, John shakes his head, widens his eyes and leans in close, "We're not playing Rodney, we can't take it any more, we just had to tell you how we felt!"

Rodney's face is now a nuclear shade of red and rising and Ronon's having trouble not collapsing against his chest in fits of giggles, "He's right Rodney, we just couldn't stand the distance any more. It's killing us!"

Finding reserves of strength he didn't know he possessed, a rapidly stuttering Rodney McKay manages to claw his way off the floor, free himself from Ronon and John's heated looks and vault the final five feet to the door!

Whisky splashes against the mats as John falls face forward, snorting and crying with laughter, "Not sure you managed to make him pop a chubby, but I'm fairly fucking certain he's scarred for life!"

Ronon curls into a ball against John's twitching ribs and sniggers loudly, "Well, if I can't even make McKay horny, I'm gonna have to start using new tactics!"

John's alcohol addled mind comes up with a far better use for Ronon's _tactics_ as he rolls over towards his partner, "I think McKay's more into blonde and big breasted, not bronzed and bulging muscles. Don't take it personally, Chewie!"

Dying laughter mingled with breathy moans fills the gym as Rodney slams into his quarters, snatching up a bottle of vodka to try and block out the image of Ronon declaring his undying love!, "I am **never** going to sleep again!"


End file.
